Chapter 3Turning His Lies Into Life Sentences

Mark’s face went pale. He shot a frantic look at Diane.

Diane jumped like she’d been prodded with a cattle prod. "Natalie’s right," she stammered, pivoting wildly. "Wait—no. I mean, Natalie, you rest. I’ll take him to the victim’s house first to apologize. It’s the right thing to do before the sirens start."

They were desperate to keep me away.

I nodded, pretending to be overcome with grief, and retreated into the bedroom. I needed time. The clock was ticking.

I checked my bank app. My pre-marital savings—fifty thousand dollars—were still there. I immediately moved them to a private account he couldn't touch.

Then, I started tossing the room.

One of our joint cards was missing. All our shared income, our "future" for Ben, was tied to that card. Gone.

A cold dread settled in my stomach. I checked my jewelry box. My grandmother’s gold bracelet, my designer bags, my luxury watches—all replaced with high-quality fakes.

The bastard. He hadn't just planned to leave; he’d planned to strip-mine my life. He wanted me to pay "restitution" to his mistress, raise his kid, and take care of his mother while he lived it up with the loot from my own closet.

I picked up the phone and dialed a private investigator I’d looked up online. "I need a full workup on a woman named Valerie Thorne," I whispered. "And I need it fast."

I lay on the bed, my mind racing, until the bedroom door was slammed open.

Diane was there, heaving, looking like she was about to faint. "She wouldn't let him come back! That woman... she called the cops the moment we got there! They took my boy! They took Mark away!"

Ben ran out of his room, sobbing. "Daddy! I want my Daddy!"

I threw myself onto the floor, wailing with a theatricality that would have made Diane proud. "How can this be? Mark! How are we supposed to live without you?"

Inside, I was beaming. The game was finally afoot.